


Bad Dream

by notjustmom



Series: Box of 64 [53]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Gen, M/M, Mostly Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 00:24:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14738612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: Sherlock wakes up from a bad dream.





	1. Chapter 1

Sherlock startled awake to small fingers tapping his shoulder.

"Da?"

"Ro?" He sat up and looked around, realizing he had fallen asleep on the couch thinking about the case he was working on after putting her to bed. John was away at a conference, his first in years, and Sherlock had forgotten the last time they had been apart for more than a day. "I'm sorry if I woke you up."

"No, couldn't sleep. I was up reading. I got up to get a drink and I heard you. You sounded scared and lonely." Sherlock patted the place next to him on the couch, and she sat close to him, taking his hand. "I don't like it when he's not here either. Even if it's just a double shift, and I know he'll be home when I wake up."

"I had a nightmare."

"Das have nightmares? I didn't think you -"

"You didn't think I get scared?" Sherlock pulled her closer and kissed her hair. "I've been scared more times than I like to think about."

She turned and gazed up at him, trying to figure it out, then finally shrugged and asked quietly, "about what?"

Sherlock looked into her eyes and sighed. "Lots of things. You remember, when you were younger, you were convinced there was a monster under your bed?" Rosie nodded. "I've met real monsters, people, who did bad things, and sometimes when I'm working too much, and your papa isn't around to remind me to go to bed, I remember some of those monsters."

Rosie wrapped her arms around him and closed her eyes. "You know what makes me feel better when I have a bad dream?"

"What?"

"Papa tells me a story, and it helps me go back to sleep." She looked at the phone on the coffee table. "I don't think he'll mind if you call him." 

"It's late."

"Da..."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and picked up the phone. "This is silly - John? I didn't wake you up?"

"No. Couldn't sleep. What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Sherlock."

Sherlock looked down at Rosie who had fallen asleep against his side. "Just a nightmare - I fell asleep on the couch, Rosie found me."

"Want to talk about it?"

"Nope. Can you just, I don't know, tell me a story? Tell me the story you tell Ro when she has a nightmare and can't sleep?"

"Rosie's story?" Sherlock could hear John smile.

"What?"

"I always tell her about the day we met."

"Why?"

"Why? Well, the first time I couldn't get her to sleep, she was only a few months old, I was exhausted, hadn't really slept for a couple of days, so I put her in her cot and just started telling her about that day - how I ran into Mike, and saw you for the first time -"

"Why that story?"

"I didn't know why for the longest time, but eventually, I came to realise it was because at the end of that day, it was the first time in years that I felt like I was safe, and I had hope, and it was because of you. You gave me that, and I wanted her to know."

"John -"

"Listen. I gave my talk yesterday. I can get an earlier train, be home in time to make breakfast?"

Sherlock looked down at Rosie, who shifted against him and smiled in her sleep. "No. I think I just needed to hear your voice. I've grown accustomed to you being here. Just talk to me for a little while?" He kissed Rosie's curls and closed his eyes as John's voice lulled him to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and a wee bit more...

Mrs. Hudson opened her door a crack and peeked out. "John? You weren't due back until later, is something wrong?"

John kissed her cheek and shook his head. "Just thought I'd surprise them. I -"

"You missed them. I know they missed you too, it's been a long time since -" She put a finger to her lips and gave him the look.

He met her gaze and nodded. "Yeah." He cleared his throat and kissed her cheek again, then turned for the stairs and silently made his way up to the flat.

Sherlock was lightly snoring on the couch, while Rosie was curled up in his chair, reading a book, when he opened the door. She looked up and smiled at him, but made no move to get up from the chair, simply nodding in Sherlock's direction, and went back to her book. John placed his bag on the floor, and toed off his shoes, then moved over to the couch and knelt down on the floor. His eyes traveled over Sherlock's face for a long moment as he watched him slowly wake up. Long fingers touched his face and a small smile graced Sherlock's lips before he opened his eyes. "John."

"Yeah."

"You didn't need to come home early."

"I did."

Sherlock studied John carefully, seeing everything neither of them could easily speak out loud and gently pulled him into a kiss, sighing as John placed trembling fingers in his hair. "John."

 

Rosie closed her book quietly and laid it aside, then left the flat without a word, and went downstairs to Mrs. Hudson. She raised her hand to knock and the door opened. "Come in, love. I've got some lovely scones going, and our stories are on." Rosie went in and closed the door, then dropped onto the couch. "One day, they'll tell me, won't they?"

Mrs. Hudson knew Rosie well enough to know exactly what she meant, and carried over a cup of milky tea for her, placing it in her hands and sat down next to her. "Your parents - your fathers, they are different than most people. But you know that. They are unique, in my long experience with people. There are reasons, events have conspired to make them as they are - you love them."

"Yes. Very much. I just wish I could, I don't know -" Rosie shrugged as she looked down at her tea.

"You see them like no one else does, Rosie, they trust you, you are part of them - I know you see and feel their sadness, it's never because of you, you must know that. They try very hard not to revisit the past, but sometimes it finds them." She watched as Rosie sipped her tea in silence. "One day, they will tell you when they are ready, just know how very much they love you. Ah! Scones are ready, I have some of that nice jam you like."

Rosie smiled up at her and nodded. "Thank you, Nana, you are the best."

Mrs. Hudson returned her smile and ruffled her unruly curls. "And some eggs, I think?"

"Please?"

 

"Where's Ro?" Sherlock asked as he yawned and sat up to take the tea John offered him.

"Downstairs with Mrs. H, their stories are on, and -"

"She knew."

John looked at him curiously. "Knew what?"

"I needed to hear your voice last night. I didn't want you to worry, to feel obligated to come home early, but she understood that I needed to know you were okay."

"She knows us, knows you, better than anyone, Sherlock." John sat down next to him and took his hand.

"I don't want her to worry. Sometimes I wish she didn't see so much."

John chuckled as he brought Sherlock's hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles. "She's your daughter, our daughter, Sherlock. You have always taught her to observe and consider carefully what she thinks she knows, not to make assumptions, and she sees you. She's spent more time with you than anyone else in her life. She's ten, now, and she can read your tells as quickly as you can read a crime scene -"

"She shouldn't have to take on my stuff, John." Sherlock placed his mug on the coffee table and got up from the couch, then began to pace, running his fingers through his hair.

"Your 'stuff' is just a small part of you. But it is why, it is how you can be the parent you are to her, because you have known the best and worst of people. She has learned empathy from you -"

"And you -" Sherlock stopped moving and turned to face him.

"Mostly from you. You know that -" 

"John - I -"

"You're not the same person you were when we met, Sherlock - I mean, you are, but - hell - see? Even now, I'm still arse at things like this. I'm still afraid to try to talk about this with you, or her. You're fearless when it comes to Rosie. If she has a question, or a concern, or just wants to talk - you sit down with her and let her ask her questions, and you give her your full attention with no thought as to what it could cost you."

"It's a risk that I'm willing to take. For her. Because I know she -" Sherlock bit his lip and dropped into his chair.

"She knows you and loves you unconditionally. And always will."

"You don't know that, John."

John moved over to Sherlock and stood behind him, then laid his hands on his shoulders. "I do, because I do too. And I think you know that, but you were afraid to ask."

"What if -"

"There is nothing, absolutely nothing you can do or say to change that. I smell scones, and eggs - I skipped breakfast to catch the train, and you know what the food is like on trains."

"Disappointing."

John whispered into Sherlock's hair. "Go get dressed and let's go have breakfast with our daughter."


End file.
